Holding My Breath till the Lines Blur
by I'veHeardItBothWays
Summary: Why couldn't he embrace his new god, accept him, love him as only a brother could do? Why instead did he want him to return the souls, to go back to that which couldn't hold his own in heaven? Why didn't he understand that this had been necessary?
1. Reaching for loneliness Dean

A/N: Hola Mishamigos….hahaha! So I hope you guys enjoy my story, I was heartbroken after the premier of season 7, I cried for days (I'm still sniffling), and I am unsatisfied with the amount of reaction fanfiction, to this pivotal turning point (I know it hasn't even been a week yet, but when I'm sad I like to read stories regarding the topic lol) so I decided rather than complain about it, I would write one. This might turn into a series, be it of one shots or a full chaptered story, depending on what you guys want, and the reaction I get from you! SO I hope you enjoy.

Note: Title comes from the song entitled "Goodbye to the Girl" by David Cook

Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, would I do that to Cas?

Summary: "His mind was focused on the words this creature had just said. "He's dead", the words echoed through his brain, and he was filled with utter and complete desolation, for his brother was gone, and Dean, was alone."

"Bow down and profess your love unto me", the words of the previous week barrage him incessantly. "You were once my favorite pets". The cold mocking tone echoes like a bell in his head. Cas' voice, so unlike Cas. He had never sounded so cold, even when he was head angel dick. His brother was going dark side, well not dark side, ethereal side was more like it; and he couldn't go through it again.

"Kill him" he had said to Death, ordered hysterically, for this visage, couldn't be Cas, he just couldn't. He must be an imposter wearing his face, using his voice, for Cas' eyes could never look that distant, that shrouded, that frothed over with ice. Once Death killed this doppelganger, the real Cas would come in a ostentatious scene of exploding lights, and banging doors. Another reason he figured that this couldn't be Cas; Cas knew how to make an entrance, this thing, this God did not.

Sam had continuously attempted to revive his faith in Cas, but of course he would attempt to do this, for Sam himself had not fully regained his own redemption from him. He had continuously refuted Sam's attempts for this imposter did not deserve redemption, and Cas wherever he was, did not need it.

Another drink, drowning himself in cheap booze, and Japanese cartoon porn, and in popped Cas, looking about ready to implode any second. His call for help, sending alarms throughout his body; was this now Cas? Or was it a horrible trick the soulless imposter was playing, ready to break any last ounce of hope within him? His eyes were bathed in blood, his face molting under the power of the souls. He knows that he shouldn't help, shouldn't gamble away his last shred of sanity, but this was his brother, and if he asked for help, damn it all to hell, he would give it.

So off they went back to the place where this hell began, one aging drunkard of a hunter, one sanity collapsing ex blood junkie, one foundering angel-god, and him, one hopeless, feeble man, who was starting to believe that his ultimate destiny (if he believed in it) was to be alone.

As he waited for Sam to get the blood, Cas had apologized, "does it make you feel better?"

"No" of course it didn't, neither of them could feel better, for if this being, was Cas, and was actually apologizing to him, than that meant that it was true. That would mean that all of the things that had been done, (that had been said) were spoken by his brother. A brother who was apologizing in preempt of his impending death. Cas could barely stand, falling over every few seconds, and Sam did not return. He ran down the corridor "Sam?" But no one answered, the vial sitting primly on the floor.

It seemed like the story of his life, when shit happened, the universe always decided to load more crap on top, seeming to be testing how much he could take before he broken, and god damn he was teetering, on the brink. He looked around the hallway, hoping Sam was somewhere just out of sight, knowing the wall was crumbling down faster and faster, and yet Sam would never tell him. Sam Mr. Share your feelings always preached that he should talk, that he would feel better, but whenever it was about Sam himself, be it drinking demon blood, or having hallucinations (he was still miffed that he had to learn this from Death. Miffed but not surprised.)

He could hear Bobby, and Cas in the other room, and in that moment had to make a choice. Should he look for the brother who had forsaken him time, and time again, or the brother who strayed yet had always been there for him, when the former had not, excluding the time, he got himself brainwashed at bible camp he amended. He picked up the vial, and raced back to the room, and Bobby did the spell. The barrier to purgatory opened, and the worst case of deja-vu assaulted his sense. Cas turned his head, his eyes looking at him, the formerly self-righteous orbs now laced with regret. As Cas turned back towards the portal, and began to release the souls, he thought for a moment, that Cas would jump in, a thought that clenched his heart in a vice, but Cas did not.

When it was over, Cas lie prone on the cold floor, cold, not breathing. "Maybe angels don't need to breathe?" A thought that Bobby was quick to dismiss, so quick to write Cas off as dead. Seeing Cas' lifeless figure made him want to weep, and puke, and scream, and kill something all in unison, but he settled for berating, as though Cas' ears could still hear, "I told you". All at once he saw what had been dead eyes flash open "CAS?" He lifted him up, and helped him to his feet.

"I will redeem myself to you" Cas had insisted. He disregarded it the first time, for, for all of Sam's wrongdoings, he never wished to redeem himself to _'him'_. To the world, yes, he achieved it by jumping in the pit, but to him, he never even attempted. It was a foreign concept to him that someone would wish to redeem themselves in his eyes. When Cas said it a second time, he began to believe it, when he was violently pushed away, stumbling, attempting to remain standing, his heart stopped. "They're too strong…..the leviathan!"

Then suddenly, Cas wasn't Cas anymore, this time worse than the first, for it's face held no shred of what had once occupied it. "Too late" the maniacal voice rang out, in a tone of voice, that Cas would never use. "Castiel? He's dead." The grin on his face one that held no happiness, but pure unadultured violence, and insanity. It was a smile that sparked terror in however Dean did not even see it. His mind was focused on the words this creature had just said. "He's dead", the words echoed through his brain, and he was filled with utter and complete desolation, for his brother was gone, and Dean, was alone.

A/N: Soooo what did you think? Please review (give me some happiness in my time of grief for poor Castiel, who hopefully is not actually dead)!


	2. Wayward Shadow Of the Light Cas

A/N: Hey guys! So my musie took me hostage and forced me to spend my morning writing this idea. I hope you all enjoy it, and if you do please leave a review. I decided that this is going to turn into a series of oneshots, some of them connecting, while others are standalone. This is a companion to the first chapter, which was Dean centric. This story however is Castiel centric!

Disclaimer: Still don't own it, but if Misha Collins wants a job….I have three dollars, with his name on it.

Summary: _"Cas come on this is nuts, you can turn this around please_" Dean was his brother, who he cared for more than any of his angel brethren. He had bonded more closely with him in three short years, than he had a in a millennia with any of his former garrison. Why couldn't he embrace his new god, accept him, love him as only a brother could do? Why instead did he want him to return the souls, to go back to that which couldn't hold his own in heaven? Why didn't he understand that this had been necessary?

"_Bow down and profess your love unto me"_, he had told them, with sheer power coursing through his spirit, power unlike that which his angelic self-had ever felt. He was stronger, omnipotent, unstoppable, and he wanted the world, no strike that the universe to recognize him. Sam stood behind him shell shocked, eyes still pasted onto the angel blade, that had moments prior been shoved in his back. He was surprised that Sam was even conscious, let alone able to get the jump on him, but no matter. The blade served its purpose, of proving to both himself, and to them that angel, he was no longer….he was god.

Bobby got down on his knees, and had motioned for the other two to do the same, but he halted them. This exercise was, he deemed futile, for he wished them to bow in reverence of him, of love for him, and he could feel the fear, and sheer terror that they held in place of the former two things permeating the lab. His eyes met green, and he felt another emotion that was held within one of their persons, desolation, hopelessness, emotions that struck him in another entity, in another time, and made a minute locked up presence, of what he once was cry out in despair for his closest brother.

"_Cas come on this is nuts, you can turn this around please_" Dean was his brother, who he cared for more than any of his angel brethren. He had bonded more closely with him in three short years, than he had a in a millennia with any of his former garrison. Why couldn't he embrace his new god, accept him, love him as only a brother could do? Why instead did he want him to return the souls, to go back to that which couldn't hold his own in heaven? Why didn't he understand that this had been necessary?

"_I hope for your sake, this is the last you'll see me"_ he had told them warningly, and disappeared, but not before making the mistake of looking at Dean; who looked as though he had been struck, as though with those words he had taken all the hope of the world, and crushed. Dean's eyes penetrating his with an unguarded look which reflected more anguish than he had ever seen mar his face before. Even through the whole Sam debacle, he had never looked this despondent.

His next stop was heaven, where he used his new powers to eradicate all of Raphael's loyalists. He knew now in his omnipotent knowledge that free will was not the answer. The angels needed a father; they needed _him_ to tell them what to do. Free will would create anarchy, and many would attempt to rebel against their new lord….he couldn't let that happen. "_Be obedient children, or this will be your faith". _

He could hear the entire world, whispering to him, some in prayer, others in curses, but what struck him the most was those that claimed to speak in _his name_. He had to stop this, to show the humans that the God's words which they followed, and looked up to were not being spoken through these self-righteous "conduits". He brought judgment down onto that professed holy man, as his book commanded. The whispers increased though, calling to him, not from the world, but from his very being.

"_Castiel, Cas" _these unearthly voices speaking to him, banging inside of him. The souls, were they supposed to do this? The loan that Crowley had given him in what seems like an eternity ago never speaking, or trying to exit. He must need more souls that must be it. To retain this new God persona, he would need more sustenance, more fuel, no bother. He went to get Crowley in order to renegotiate the terms of their previous deal, sparing him in order to keep his followers loyal; for hell was still hell and no being wished to go there. After that, it was just a blur of his crusade work, from white supremacists, to new age liars, one, by one, by one they met his wrath.

The blind man whom he healed was the first to bring up his molting appearance. His eyes rimmed red, parts of his face, peeling off; and the whispers became full blown shouts."_Too late" _ his stomach began to bulge as though along with the souls, he had swallowed one of those medieval battering rams_ "let us out". _The vicious yells escalating violently_ LET US OUT."_

"_Amazing" _Dean was trying to kill him "_I didn't want to kill you, but now." _He had chained Death, with the purpose of trying to eliminate him. "_You've erased any nostalgia I had for you Dean" _but that wasn't true, oh how he wished that it was true. He could maim and kill Sam, or Bobby, but not Dean never Dean. He knew it was futile, that with Death bound, he couldn't kill them, but he wanted to show Dean, he could, Dean, whose eyes were still laced with misery. He didn't wish to deal with Dean, in such a state, so his attention moved towards Death.

"_Looks more like a mutated angel to me" _How dare he question the lord, telling him that he would explode, he who knows everything, he who is god. "_There are things much older in purgatory and you gulped those in too", _this statement creating turmoil inside of him, yet maintaining his composure. What things older than souls were in purgatory, what did Death know, that he did not? Dean, whose face cracked when Death proclaimed that he would explode, couldn't remain quiet, letting his concern wash over him with a question to Death. "_Wha-what kind of things?" _

"_The Leviathans" _ but no, that couldn't be true, why would the first beast, the most vicious beast be locked away in purgatory, be swallowed up, without his knowledge? Death left him enraged, as they engaged in a battle of the words, and the threats, only to be halted by Dean, "_call him what you want, just kill him now."_ He looked on shocked, staring at Dean, whose eyes, having grown even further desolate upon learning these things from death, were also laced with a firm resolve. He simply stared at Dean for a few moments in a daze, and then realizing what was about to happen, broke Death's chains and popped out of the room.

At the campaign office, he doesn't remember much, just the waking up part. He was bathed in blood, with no idea how it came to be. Dean would of called it ironic, that upon becoming a god, he knew less and less. He had only intended on placing judgment on the Senator, not her aides. He wanted them to see that he was a better God than his father, the barbs that Death had hurled still raw. He didn't know he was losing control, he needed help.

Sam's prayer to him was irrelevant in nature. Of course it would be Sam to grasp on the hope that anyone could be redeemed. He knew Dean wouldn't ask him to let him help, not after everything he had said and done. He had in many ways broken Dean and he wanted to repair him.

They went to the laboratory, and he felt weaker and weaker. The raw power which had consumed his being, now was siphoning his energy. "_I feel regret"_ he had said to Dean "_about you and what I did to Sam."_ Especially about you, he amended in his mind. Dean didn't react to his exclamation of regret, and why would he, what is regret to the person that you broke? The amends that he attempted to make before his demise, not making either of them feel better. Bobby began the spell, and he fell to the ground, with Dean quickly righting him, always there for him, even when he hurt him. The portal beginning to open, made the truth crash into him, this could be the end, and suddenly real unbridled regret consumed him, weighing him down, more powerful, and painful than that of the souls, and the beasts "_I'm sorry Dean". _

He released the souls, and they spilled back through the wall to purgatory, taking with them every iota of his strength, until he was empty, and fell to the floor with a crash. The next thing he became aware of was talking, Dean, swallowing his grief, speaking to him in abject pain. His eyes flashed open, and his name was uttered like a cry "Cas?" Standing up, and leaning on Dean for support, they began to walk out of the room_. "I'll find some way to redeem myself to you Dean"_ he had vowed, knowing that he would do whatever it took, to earn Dean's forgiveness. "_Ok" _Dean had said, clearly not believing him, and why should he really, after all that he had put him through? But he had to make Dean believe him, he needed him to "_I mean it"_ , and Dean had nodded, his eyes reflecting his yearns for what he was saying to actually be the truth.

Suddenly a huge tidal wave engulfed him, and he felt them, clawing for control. He pushed Dean away "He pushed Dean away "_You need to go now, I can't fight them." _Second by second they crawled further into him, his weakened state unable to put up any resistance _"Leviathan". _Dean had to leave, he had to get to safety, he couldn't be responsible for killing Dean, his actions couldn't be the reason Dean was hurt. His attempts to combat them waned, and an intense pain engulfed him, and all that Castiel knew was black.

A/N: Sooooo please review, pretty please, and when Misha accepts my job offer I will have him record your voice mail message "Leave a message, and profess your love unto me" hahaha…..I want that message (:


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